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A turbulent sigh rolls from her mouth. “Elixir.”

That name uttered from her throat. I want to swallow the noise whole.

My capped digit skates down the column of her throat, skims over the erratic pulse point, and glides across her clavicles. I like when she shivers. Even more, I enjoy when it makes her suffer for my touch.

I feast on every detail of Cove as my caps graze back and forth along her collarbones. Her nipples poke through the supple bodice of her swimming suit. With a flick of my wrists, I could shear the material into ribbons. But tempting as that is, it might upset her later, if not while caught up in the moment. She cherishes this outfit, my gift to her.

Instead, I compensate with a gentle snap of my digits. My caps slice the dainty ties of her skirt. Yards of pearlescent mermaid scales radiate, glittering like a thousand shingles as the material splashes around her feet.

Cove gasps, her eyes about to fringe open. But I prowl closer, my shadow cloaking her in darkness. “Keep them closed,” I order.

She does as bid, her obedience tilting one corner of my lips. It is rare for her to comply, to follow commands. It is one of the many reasons I could not stop thinking about her, wanting her from the moment she entered my domain.

Next, I hook my caps under the bodice straps and glide them down her arms. The malleable fabric peels like snakeskin, baring her flesh to my famished gaze. My breath tightens into a low rumble as her breasts spring from the material, the nipples as solid as shells, the points as rosy as her tongue.

The image parches my mouth, eager to lap on those delectable pellets. I strip the fabric over her stomach and across her hips. She steps out of the garment while I plunge it down her limbs.

Chucking the material aside, I rise.

As I do, I make a journey of it.

My honed caps encircle her ankles, ascend the backs of her knees, and skate a sharp trail up the backs of her thighs. Cove’s panting fills my senses, surmounting the slosh of the pond’s waterfall. I smile at her nervousness, how she awaits my actions, pulse ramming against her neck.

This is what the darkness does. It conceals, builds anticipation.

I prowl over every erotic curve and hollow, basking in my lady’s quavering sighs, discovering her all over again. My hands trace the flare of her buttocks and the divots of her beautiful ass, prickles trailing in my wake. Then I skid my index fingers down the slopes of her hipbones, deeper still to the inner flanks of her thighs.

A roar builds in my lungs, not yet ready to break free. Rather, I keep my voice even. “Spread them.”

Cove’s legs broaden, giving me unbridled access to the swatch of hair tucked at the crux of her legs. The loveliest essence wafts from her cunt, sweet and savory. I lick my lips and gaze, observing as my fingercaps brush through the tight mound of hair.

My lady jolts but doesn’t flee, because I won’t hurt her. Never will I harm her.

Tormenting her is another matter.

My caps skim the delicate flesh of her slit, the walls swelling under my touch. So very lightly, I run the chiseled edges of my digits over Cove’s skin, teasing her with the faintest of threats. The peaks are reminiscent of talons, deadly enough to use as weapons. But with her, they shall be a source of worship.

I rasp and gingerly etch the slot of her cunt, sliding my cap backward and forward, rowing over the seam. Cove whines, plaintive. Her hands grapple my hair, tangling it into disarray.

Liquid pours from her cunt, seeping through and wetting my finger. I growl and inch my digit into the pool of heat gathering at her nexus. Fables be damned, she’s leaking onto the appendage.

I swirl my finger ever so carefully, etching the oval entrance. Cove’s mouth falls open on a thin, swift cry. An endless stream of fluid pours from her.

My cock rises higher, the head strumming with heat. By sheer force of will, I keep my knees nailed to the wood planks.

Combing through the glistening hair, I find that tight kernel of skin projecting from her center. My finger pats it, feathers over it. Cove’s spine tenses, and a sob drops from her mouth.

Not enough. I need her louder.

Gilded heat swarms behind my eyes, and I do my utmost to pull more noise from the well of her throat. With the slightest motions, I draw the back of my cap over her clitoris, orbiting the inflated nub. Her arousal gushes from her folds and drizzles down to my knuckles.

Fuck, my erection is going to rupture merely from this.

Nonetheless, if she wants a vicious Fae, that is what she’ll get. I prolong our anguish and toy with her wet skin. Cove’s frayed moans flood my ears, the climax hardening in her throat. I reap her pleasure, siphon it from her with my fingers coasting over the cinched bud of skin, then sinking across the rift in her thighs, then towing through the hair again before resuming its onslaught across her ridge of nerves.

Cove yanks on my scalp and tosses her skull back. Her moans fragment, ricocheting from that deep, dark place inside her. I croon, riveted by the flush of her cunt, the rush of wetness spilling from the recess.

“Now come,” I demand. “Come on them.”